


Love was changing the minds of pretenders

by ContainThisOrItWillGetGay



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: After care, Alpha Kink, Anonymous Sex, Bondage, Bottom Original Percival Graves, Bottom Percival, Bratty Sub Percival, Cliche Tropes Are Gold Fight Me, Dirty Talk, Dom Newt, Fingering, Fluff, Getting Together, Gracious Appreciation Of Newt Scamander, Hookup Turns Into More, M/M, Newt Is Smitten For Percival And Honestly Mood, Nipple Play, Orgasm Denial, Outdoor Sex, Percival Is Bad At Feelings But Then Not, Percival Is Secretly A Softy, Pet Play, Pining, Pool Games Are Not This Sexy IRL, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, SO MUCH FLUFF, Seraphina Is Still Laughing Now At These Idiots, Seraphina/Percival BROTP, Sex Magic, Tease Newt, Teasing, face fucking, happy open ending, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 21:58:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15277035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContainThisOrItWillGetGay/pseuds/ContainThisOrItWillGetGay
Summary: Percival had come here for fun, not romance, not a good strong drink - he certainly wouldn’t find it in such a piss poor establishment - no. He’d come here with a mission in mind, to find a good looking man and forget the stress of his daily life.He’d found that, Mercy had he - he just didn’t expect to be thrown into some sort of universe conspired comedy romance.He likely should have been, this was his life and luck after all.





	Love was changing the minds of pretenders

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vaderina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/gifts), [pelele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pelele/gifts), [fantastik_obskurials](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantastik_obskurials/gifts).



> This Fic was written as a fit for And to [Reportsduemonday](https://reportsduemonday.tumblr.com) thank you for for all our lovely ideas and indulging me.
> 
> But also A huge Thank You to [Letclestrcnge](https://letclestrcnge.tumblr.com) for betaing and putting up with me, as always. and for being an endless source of joy. 
> 
> And to [Ladyoftheshrimp](https://ladyoftheshrimp.tumblr.com) for encouraging me and always supporting me and making me smile with each chat. 
> 
> And to [Fantastikobskurials](https://fantastikobskurials.tumblr.com) for all your hilarious comments and lovely support.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy Percival getting what he needs. Love, affection and Newt Dick.

Percival had come here for fun, not romance, not a good strong drink - he certainly wouldn’t find it in such a piss poor establishment - no. He’d come here with a mission in mind, to find a good looking man and forget the stress of his daily life.

He’d found that, Mercy had he - he just didn’t expect to be thrown into some sort of universe conspired comedy romance.

He likely should have been, this is his life and luck after all.

The bar had been well out of the way of New York, apparating states over to ensure he is less likely to be personally recognized. He should have been fine, Percival knew how to adjust after all - no three piece suit here, no straight collar and perfection. He still looked good, he’d be damned if he’d pick anyone up not looking well. But the half open shirt, tight waistcoat and soft, product free wave to his hair certainly added to a more casual feel.

People didn’t tend to take well to the Director approach, and tonight he didn’t _want_ to be Director Percival Graves.

The bar had been dimly lit, a little more barren given it had been a Sunday night and a slow drag of dark eyes leaves him mildly _disappointed_. Oh he’s sure the people were plenty nice, but he had specific tastes, and he hadn’t come all this way to settle.

He had been debating apparating further south when a movement at the back had him pausing - perhaps he didn’t have too.

Percival moved to the bar, bought himself a scotch, and slid his eyes over the delicious looking thing pushing up from the billiard table.

He had been tall, broad shoulders, narrow waist framed by a rather lovely brown waistcoat. Red curls bounce as long fingers accepted notes from a rather annoyed looking older man. The smile on full lips had been half cocky, and yet the flush spreading over his cheeks is sweet.

Percival watches him tuck the money into his pocket and look over his shoulder - feeling eyes on him it seemed, good instinct - green flicking over him and away, that half cocky smile curling just a little more.

A mess of contradictions from the shy skittering eyes to the knowing quirk of his mouth.

_Well_ , Percival had definitely considered himself interested.

Walking over is a movement laced with anticipation, and he watches as the man sinks into a chair by the playing tables, long legs parted slightly, trousers pulling obscenely over thighs and yet he barely seemed to notice his own delectability, fingers twisting a pencil through them, noting something on paper.

Those hands were lined with white scars and yet ever so graceful and Percival couldn’t help but hope they would be as rough as the work torn look suggested.

Introducing himself had been easy, though the man looked genuinely surprised by his offer for a drink and his face lit up as Percival moved beside him - closer than needed, but it is always fun to fluster them.

His name is Artemis, apparently. Percival didn’t doubt a fake name, he’d given his own of course - Val, an old nickname Seraphina had given him in ilvermorny, easy to recall and not to far off that it would throw him in the heat of the moment.

And there would be a heat of the moment. Artemis is responding beautifully to sly touches, Percival had all but dragged his hand up the man's inner thigh and there is no sign of disgust, green eyes had darkened as they studied him through lashes, the darling thing offering a _compliment_ in return.

He isn’t usually one for the build up, he didn’t often need it - but he found himself rather enjoying the foreplay, a mouth so dangerously close when Artemis leans in to murmur over the music, the easy grin as he pulls away, leaving Percival chasing after him.

He works with animal’s apparently, and there’s something to the way he says it - sly, teasing, that has him rather intrigued. Percival couldn’t give more than a position in law enforcement in return, but he did surprise himself with a genuine laugh at the little joke as to if handcuffs would be needed for the end of the night.

The man is a curiosity, honestly kind, and yet as the hours slip past Percival is extremely pleased to note that the hand resting beside him hand slipped about his back, playing under his shirt over the dip of his spine.

Percival is surprised when he catches himself enjoying the company. The talk, the way the man focused so very intently on him, and yet there is no judgement in his expression, only an earnest interest.

It is odd, talking about things other than work - about music, tastes, food, family, things he loved and things he didn’t - mindless things that shouldn’t matter amidst the subtle, suggestive touches. Not when they would be forgotten come morning.

There had been barely space between them, and still Artemis had made no real move - he had to admit to becoming frustrated, half hard by the low murmur by his ear, the soft curl of a British Accent doing far more than it should to entice him.

He’d never cared much for accents, he met plenty of brits in his daily work, and yet something about the man’s voice holds his attention and his breath. Soft, but there under it is a thrum of effortless control - like one used to giving the commands.

Percival isn’t sure it is to people, by the way he ducks his head at simple compliments, and by word it simply has him leaning in more.

It comes to him, after a shorter while - that Artemis is _playing_.

Coaxing him in and waiting for Percival to ask for it. The very idea had his stomach clenching in heat. Perhaps there is more to the man then he’d realized, the sweet demeanor hiding something a little more predatory.

Mercy he could only _hope_.

So, Percival had walked willingly into his den, mentioning to the billiard table and asking if Artemis would be willing to show him the movement he’d done to curl the ball and take the older man’s money so easily.

He’d been rewarded for the movement by rough fingers dragging around to his thigh, squeezing hard, high up enough that he swore it made his cock jump - a cheeky thing slipping from the table and mentioning for Percival to lead the way.

Something had changed on the air, and walking ahead of Artemis felt like being stalked by something hungry, breath leaving him in surprise when a firm hand catches the back of his neck and forced him down over the table.

The move is one of utter control, gone as quickly as it came, leaving him craving the strength behind it, almost missing the chirped comment of “getting into the right position.”

Oh he’d be in position alright, swallowing before gathering himself, picking up the cue and moving to properly stand. From what he’d felt over the passing time Artemis would have a hell of a cock on him, and Percival had been growing impatient.

It may have been a while since he is able to get out, but at least he had no doubt in that moment that it would be worth the wait.

“Good, hips back a touch- “

Percival grits his teeth when a firm chest presses to his back, Artemis’ hips against him, the line of his cock felt even through their slacks, Percival found himself absolutely uncaring for the art of the game, but Merlin if it got the man to cover him like this he could play along.

It didn’t last as long as he wanted, the heat leaving him again and Percival slams the cue into the ball, watching it launch across the table in a near violent move rather adequate in mimicking his frustrations, Artemis’ laughter soft and breathy.

He took comfort then when he placed a hand to the table and looked back Artemis’ had been shamelessly admiring the curve of his ass, green eyes moving up slowly, cheeks turning pink when he’s caught, but Percival revels in it. Another step closer.

A hot mouth over the back of his throat is what finally pushes Percival, straightening fast, Artemis’ hands slipping from his hips in concern. But he’s would not be turning him away, quite the contrary.

Percival requested some air. Admittedly a little cliche but given the entire night he didn’t much care, Artemis wanted something more direct - and this would do the job perfectly, fingers catching in a dotted shirt, dragging the taller man down to growl by his ear.

_“Come with me.”_

The catch of breath turns Percival to smirk, placing some money on the table and walking out. Artemis would follow, or he’d back out - and he’d be beyond disappointed if the man is all play and no work.

He doesn’t have to be - Thank Morgana - because hands grab for his hips and in a movement quick enough to impress him Percival is pressed back against bare brick, a delightfully demanding mouth covering his own.

“ _Finally_ \- “

The word leaves him in a groan and Artemis kisses like he’s taking something, absolutely filthy, the drag of full lips making him arch. Mercy let’s hope he fucks as well as he kisses, he’d be in for a _fantastic_ evening if he did.

“You’ve been teasing all night, sweetheart. Do you think it isn’t obvious the way you fluttered those pretty lashes and all but begged for me?”

Percival couldn’t help but be a touch amused by the low blame in Artemis’ tone and damn right he’d take full credit for teasing. It’s not his fault the man had taken his sweet time in getting the hint.

“Are you going to do something about it then?” 

The words are curt, to the point but he didn’t expect those long fingers to curl in the back of his hair and wrench his head back, forcing Percival to look up at him, a hiss leaving him at the bite of pain even as his cock thickened from the sheer control in the movement.

“I think I’ll fuck the attitude from you, Val.”

Percival’s lips part a little and he can’t help the grin of challenge, he always did enjoy testing someone’s metal, and Artemis seemed to have plenty to toy with.

“Awfully sure of yourself.”

“I know how to break a naughty pup.”

Percival’s breath catches when the words are snarled, taken a back for a moment, his surprise enough for the man to step back, using a painful grip to force Percival down onto his knees, rough hand curling about his throat, keeping his chin up, thumb fluttering over his hammering pulse.

“ _No_?” Artemis’ word is thoughtful and Percival grits his teeth as a little squeeze to his throat makes him breathless out of instinct, fingers sliding away to play over the man’s own belt. Percival is tempted to just push his hands away and help himself, but a little tug in his hair has him more than sure that would cause trouble.

It is an impressive amount of control to have already, and he simply puts it down to a drawn out amount of temptation.

“You’re more the kitten type, aren’t you, darling? Clawing at things you shouldn’t like you own the place. Needing to be _punished_.”

Percival cock damn near aches now and his hips roll slightly at the words. He likely shouldn’t be surprised by the hint of pet play given the man’s occupation, but then he knows ones work can be misleading - after all, he had all the power each day and yet here he is on his knees.

“Did you come out here to get fucked, Val? Prowling the bar like a little thing in heat, just wanting to be enjoyed, _appreciated_.”

A thumb drags over his lower lip and Percival let’s his mouth fall open, Artemis’ trousers infuriatingly open and get still no cock in his damn mouth. If this man teased anymore he may just forgo the pleasantries and hold him down and ride him.

“Greedy little pet.”

Artemis laughs as he withdraws his hand, gripping at dark hair and dragging Percival forward, reaching down to slip his cock free of it’s confinements and Percival can’t help but groan in appreciation.

He is certainly as god as he felt. A lovely, thick thing, bigger than average, flushed head and adorable scattered freckles and Percival tries to push forward, take the tip into his mouth, taste him on his tongue - finally get what he’s worked so hard for.

Only to be held back. A growl of annoyance leaving him that only seems to please Artemis who shushes him, trailing fingers over his jaw. Tutting when Percival merely brings his hands up, intent on having what he wished.

He doesn’t expect magic to curl about his wrists and force them back - oh there’s always a possibility of a partner being magical, but since he’d not used any himself Artemis is taking a hell of a risk in just doing it in such a way, breath leaving in a rush as he pull on the bonds.

“Don’t touch without permission, kitten.”

There’s a pause as Percival breathes hard, he could fight his way out of it - he is well trained in escaping bonds - but something about the bruising grip of magic on his wrists, and the inability to do anything but let Artemis take his pleasure has him licking his lower lip, looking up to him defiantly.

“Then _use_ me.”

An eyebrow quirks and Percival snaps his teeth together, hissing when magic slips under his shirt and amusement dances over a soft face - clearly Artemis is rather delighted to find he knew of magic, likely since it would mean no obliviation is required after.

“I am, you’re the one being terribly impatient.”

Percival shivers when a feeling like hands moves up his chest, gripping his pecks, thumb dragging over his nipples, circling a tightening bud, his lashes fluttering as his head drops back.

He had a bit of a weakness for his chest being played with, a gross oversight by most people, but Artemis is watching with a look he could only think of as calculating - taking apart each moan he gave and using the action against him. He’d admire that sort of thing, if he isn’t busy rocking his hips up, giving a wrecked sound when his nipples are twisted and pulls on, visibly hard in his pants.

“Damn you - _please_.”

The word is clearly what Artemis had been waiting for, Percival’s mouth falling open around a moan when his nipples are pinched and twisted, half _choking_ in surprise when his head is forced down and a thick cock pushed past his lips.

Percival forces himself to recover from the startle of being used in such a way, a filthy sound in his throat as Artemis pushes deep, cock heavy on his tongue, the taste of him something sharp and heady - just what Percival needed.

“Merlin, look at you kitten. Send up blue sparks if you need me to stop, can you do that?”

Percival swallows about the cock pushing deeper, a low groan leaving him and he truly does appreciate the moment Artemis took to set an out, boundaries, nodding as much as he could before pushing forward, fighting the hold in his hair to take more of him.

“ _Good boy._ Fuck-”

Percival feels a sense of pride uncurling in his chest when Artemis’ head tilts back for a moment, hips rolling, slipping out of the heat of Percival’s mouth only to push back in, half thrusts, clearly seeing what he is capable of taking him.

More fool him, Percival is going to _ruin_ him.

Two hands settle in his hair and Percival gasps as Artemis slips from his lips, going to smirk but he doesn’t get particularly far, in a rough movement his nipples are pulled on, a phantom hand gripping his cock through his slacks and Artemis fucks right into the back of his throat, holding his head down and grinding up into him.

The sounds leaving Percival lewd as he struggles but Mercy does it feel so incredibly _good_ , his throat aching slightly, cock throbbing, his chest sensitive as he’s groped and played with all whilst being enjoyed.

Percival whimpers when Artemis starts fucking his hips up, mouth wet, stretched about him, lashes fluttering before he forces himself to look up at dark eyes. He strains against the bindings  about his wrists as his hips buck up, pushing up into the magic that palm’s over his cock, heat licking his spine, working his tongue over the length of the other man loving the way Artemis guides him so easily, bobbing his head into the thrusts.

A shudder runs down his spine and he bites his nails into his palms when he realises through the haze of pleasure that he’s very much close to cumming. The thought wild, that the man before him is bringing him to orgasm with just - some very _impressive_ \- wandless magic, a hand in his hair and his cock in his throat.

Percival may have to rethink his thoughts on foreplay after this.

“Oh no pet, not yet.”

It takes a moment for him to register what is going on, and he makes an absolutely embarrassing sound of need when Artemis drags him away from his cock and the magic mercilessly teasing his chest slips away, leaving him trembling on the edge of release.

_Bastard_.

He’s panting when Artemis pulls him up, hissing at the tug on his hair, lip curls into a slight snarl but Artemis pulls him in, and his mouth is so damn coaxing, kissing Percival like he owns the air he breathes and all above help him he’s thriving from it.

“Against the wall, **now**.”

Percival can’t even find it in him to argue, turning and giving a little grunt as he presses to the wall, the brick scratching slightly at his cheek, pushing his hips back and glaring over his shoulder - but he knows what Artemis wants, and he’s far too riled up not to give it to him.

“Fuck me. _Please_ , Artemis.”

The grin on the man’s face is sharp, pink tongue over a canine very much like a cat with cream and Percival has that same feeling again, like a predator hunting prey. It shouldn’t make him as hard as it does, given his job and title.

“Patience, Val. I need to open you up first.”

Percival makes a sound of sheer frustration, the noise only seeming to please Artemis who chuckles low and filthy, reaching out to drag down Percival’s slacks with a practiced sort of ease, slipping fabric over the curve of his ass and shoving his shirt up his back - leaving him entirely bare. Vulnerable. His hands still bound at his back and his ass open for use.

A dangerous position to be in, he thinks. And yet his cock drips under him, knowing they were merely about the back of the club, that this is a risk - one he is enjoying taking.

“If you’re so eager, slick up my fingers, kitten.”

Percival grits his teeth for a moment, there’s something else entirely in that command. Something base and controlling - making him show how badly he needed to be full. A little heat licking down his spine before he does it. Nonverbal, but _obedient_.

“Good boy.”

His eyes flutter shut at the purr by his ear, and he can’t say that he doesn’t love how a broad chest covers his back, pressing him into brick work, holding him in place as two fingers slip between his cheeks - teasing about his hole, pressing too him.

He knows the moment Artemis notices how loose he is already, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. He didn’t joke, he had come to have fun - and sometimes a little preparation beforehand helps things along.

“I told you. _Greedy_.”

Artemis rumbles the words in approval, his voice dipping so very low that Percival feels it through him, arching as two fingers press into him, curling inside in a way that almost has his toes curling with them, a wrecked moan leaving his throat.

He knew those long fingers would be wonderful later in the night, but he’ll admit to it outdoing even his expectations.

Perhaps he is simply so strung out that Artemis could read from the phone directory and he’d find a way to take it sexually, but as of that moment two fingers work into him, starting to spread him open - searching for his prostate in a way that’s worryingly efficient, his thighs trembling as the man mouths over his throat, breath hot on his skin.

Percival damn near cries out when fingers drag over that spot inside of him, Artemis’ free hand clapping across his mouth, forcing his back to arch further, exposing the line of his throat with head tilted back, the sound melting into a desperate moan.

Mercy he hadn’t felt this sort of hazy pleasure in so long and it is marvelous.

Artemis is brutal then - it’s all Percival can really describe it as - fingers fucking into him, milking his prostate with a focus that makes him a little concerned for if the man ever chooses to focus on something other than fucking him stupid.

Percival is half slipping down the wall, struggling to hold himself up, he needs something thicker - three fingers simply isn’t enough, it won't be enough until the man is inside him, until cum is dripping down his thighs and he’s unable to close properly for days after.

He does his best to think - a hard enough feat on it’s own - Auror mind fighting for a weakness, a loop, anything and everything that could convince the man to move along and put his cock to better use.

“Sweet little kitten, you make the prettiest sounds.”

Artemis nips at his throat and Percival’s breath catches, the idea is hazy but oh it might just be perfect

He mumbles the plea over against the hand over his mouth and almost grins when fingers freeze inside of him, a sharp inhale by his ear.

Got you.

Artemis pulls his palm away for a mere fraction of a moment, but Percival isn’t one to iste time, and he wants to be fucked now.

_“Please Alpha.”_

To say it has the desired effect would be the understatement of the era. Artemis slips his fingers from him, all but snarling the protective spells, grabbing for sharp hips and pressing his cock between his cheeks, smearing precum over his skin and wet rim, his fingers bruising - Percival couldn’t wait.

The thrust into him is a _punishing_ one, thick cock spreading him wide, Percival does cry out then, forced onto his toes, grazes on his cheeks from brick and entirely uncaring - all but ready to thank the man for a wonderful service because Mercy he is seeing stars in that moment.

“Is this what you wanted?”

The breath leaves him in a rush as hands push under the hanging cloth of his shirt, pulling him slightly from the wall and forcing him back onto Artemis, fingers rough as they play over sensitive nipple, pinching sharply and having him jerking as the man starts moving, fucking him with hard snaps of his hips, teeth against his pulse leaving him trembling.

He rakes his nails against Artemis’ stomach through his shirt, his shoulders aching from where his wrists were held in place, the binding bruising skin and he doesn’t care - for once, he’ll love feeling the marks in the morning.

He’ll feel a lot on the morning, with any luck the bone deep ache will stay a while this time.

Percival needs to cum, the thought is wild - messy, forced back into heavy thrusts, nipples puffy and cheek stinging. He needs so badly to cum before he cries himself hoarse in need.

He must have slurred something, through the haze, through the pleasure - and Artemis hums by his ear, giggle breathless and dark.

“Go on then. Cum untouched and let everyone know just how I had you tonight.”

Percival should likely be a little concerned by the thrum of possessiveness in the words. But in that moment emotions were ambed to an all high, and Artemis clearly had a few traits to share with his work.

He refuses to admit he likes it.

Or that the feeling of teeth sinking into his throat, bruising, marking the skin is what throws him over the edge.

Percival is swimming in a lovely moment of euphoria, breathing heavily against brick, mouth damp and slack - he hadn’t heard Artemis cum, but as his cock slips from him he can feel it, hot cum dripping obscenely from him, a little sound in his chest of satisfaction.

He very rarely gets to this level of submissive headspace, pressing into the gentle fingers that comb through his hair, the soft hands that turn him.

“Are you alright, Val?”

He tries his best to blink himself from his haze and breathe normally, taking in the sight of the man before him, admiring the cut of muscle under a filthy shirt, the flush on freckles cheeks and a swollen mouth.

Lovely, really. He almost mourns not seeing him again.

The thought snaps him right out of it. Percival did not do repeats, it would only be messy, and once his work is discovered people left anyway. Too much hassle, a high end workaholic in constant danger.

Really it is better for them both an easy goodbye.

“I’m fine.”

He clears his throat, cheeks heating just a touch at the raspiness of his own voice, a soft sort of amusement on Artemis’ face.

“Of course, well, allow me to clean you up at least - it would be very rude to fuck you and not see you off properly. And it’s very important to give real aftercare, you know.”  

Percival crinkles his nose, but the needy sort of edge to him allows it, nodding his head curtly, pretending to ignore the pleased smile.

He doesn’t care much for the way Artemis summons a warm cloth instead of using a simple cleaning spell, and it doesn’t warm his chest the way the man takes time to personally check each bruise, healing the deeper ones. It’s unnecessary - it’s, it’s _domestic_ and Percival doesn’t require it at all.

“Unless we’re having a second round with a play on Doctor and Patient I can assure you I’m fine.”

Percival tries to snipe the comment, but it just comes out quietly, drawing green eyes as Artemis slips his shirt properly closed again, mending the broken buttons from the bricks, those same strong, scarred hands tender as they cup his grazed cheek.

He needed to end this here, very quickly, _right now._

“I suppose you’ll be going then. Back to your animals.”

The words are tight, a dismissal, and he does his best to refind the voice he used with his work. Calm, powerful and collected.

Artemis looks almost disappointed, but it’s what need be done.

“Ah, yes, I suppose so. I have a new start in the morning so I should - I should likely rest. And so should you. And drink some water, and some healing herbs-”

Percival snorts lightly, cutting off the steadily growing ramble, reaching out to adjust the brown waistcoat with a firm tug - well fitted, he notes, good taste.

“Well, good luck with your animals, Artemis.”

“Yes, thank you, and um - take care.”

There’s a beat of silence and when it becomes clear Artemis won't leave first - _stubborn_ , it seems - Percival does, apparating from the alley with a sharp turn. He’s glad he did, in the end, because walking is actually a pain and a half, a little smirk on his lips from the ache.

Just that he wanted.

All he wanted.

He tells himself it again firmly as he undressed and sinks into a hot bath. All he wanted is a fuck, and he wouldn’t see the man again anyway. That is quite the point

Going to work is surprisingly ordinary. Nothing around him had changed, the same faces, the same attitudes. And yet Percival himself felt entirely different, his night spent blinking up at a draped canopy and wondering why on earth his bed felt so terribly large.

They were a dark brown, matching the natural tones of his room - lined with blue. Artemis had informed him cheerfully that he enjoyed colours that reminded him of natural and Percival glares when the drapes make him recall that, the laugh the man had given when he teased that Percival’s must be red with how kept staring and him like that, blue staining his cheeks.

He’d felt like an absolute idiot, it had been one night - one fantastic night - and he’d had good nights before. Plenty of fun fucks. This shouldn’t be causing a damn midlife crisis.

He’s asked, once or twice, by professional smiles how his evening is and the words stick in his throat. Good, he thinks, it is good - very much so. But the word doesn’t fit, and all that leaves him is that same thing he’d thought so many times before.

“ _Curious_.”

By lunch he thinks he’s shaken off the odd mood - pleased when he manages to resist buying the lasagne. ( “My favourite you know, my brother has the best recipe for it!” )

It is all A submissive drop, most likely, just a strange feeling from such affection from someone who is essentially a stranger.

As the afternoon comes about he’s feeling more put together. A talk with Seraphina helps, his friend does live up to her public image of always having a plan. And she soothes the confusion, patting his thigh and reminding him ever so lovingly that he’s getting old.

As one could see she is a fantastic friend, but the comment does have him rolling his eyes, bringing the first smile of the day too him.

He does regret not inviting Artemis home, but Percival is a busy man, and he’d likely grow bored anyway. Besides, he knew him a night, realistically it is just a whirlwind of emotion heightened by sex.

Certainly nothing to do with a longing for someone to wake up too and the way Artemis had smiled at Percival’s talk of his passions.

So, that is that. Nothing could be changed, and he isn’t pathetic enough to try and hunt the man down. Back to work, back to reality and back to his schedule.

Until a knock on the door, and the universe laughs delightedly in his face.

_Unbelievable_.

He blinks at familiar freckles stood behind Seraphina, has to fight not to react - Artemis isn’t as subtle, green eyes going wide in shock and absolute disbelief, a little squeak leaving him that has the President looking between them with perfectly arched brows.

Oh no, he could see the wolfish smile spreading over red lips. Mercy just give him one day of peace.

“Mr Graves, I see you appear to know our new worker already. This is Mr Scamander, the new head of the Beast Division.”

_You have got to be joking._

Percival’s first - well, second after a mild shock - thought is that Perhaps Newt ( “Please call me Newt, I um, Mr Scamander is more my brothers leaning.” ) had known who he is all along. Perhaps he wanted some political move, some power within his new work.

But the thought is quickly flattened. No one knew where he’d be that night, and Newt - well, Newt looked as shaken as he felt, cheeks flushed a dark red, playing with a battered brown case at his hip.

So no, he didn’t think this is planned. Simply a case of absolute karma for a past life. Mercy knows he’s done plenty to earn it.

_“I work with animals!”_ Doesn’t he just, large and wild ones. Written an entire book on them, started a breeding and rehabilitation program. Percival is more annoyed by the touch of awe he feels as he’s informed of it all. He’d heard of Scamander, planned on buy the book next week, but the connection is one he didn’t think to make.

_That explains the kinks._

Seraphina, it least, is enjoying herself, or more accurately their mortification. The shit eating grin not leaving as she forced them both to sit before her on Percival’s couch. He knew full well that the employee guide she is giving is solely for New and unpracticed staff - for junior Aurors and first time secretaries and yet still she dragged it out, looking near gleeful whenever Newt shifted beside him and Percival stiffened to stop from swaying into the brush of his arm.

He could out her - he had an awful lot of humiliating school tales, he could _ruin_ her.

Her easy grin told him full well she knew he wouldn’t dare and he simmered silently as she continued.

“Well, I hope it won't be to _hard_ for you two to learn to work together. I expect a _tight_ staff unit, close and _intimate_ in their unity for justice. Understood?”

Percival wondered if he could slip the image of their first school dance to the papers and still live to see her face tomorrow.

He doubted it, but the thought is admittedly a very sweet one.

“Well, Newt, I’ll leave you in Percival’s very _capable_ hands. I expect to see you both bright eyed at tomorrow's meeting.”

Percival very resolutely doesn’t look at the other man as he pushes to stand, following his now ex-friend to the door, gripping the edge of it, knuckle white, glaring darkly when she turns back to him, patting his chest lightly, leaning in to murmur a low:

“I suggest an apology for running off, and possibly a repeat of being on your knees.”

She all but cackles as she walks away, ever poised and self satisfied and Percival takes a slow breath, stepping back and shutting the door.

There’s a beat of silence that possibly hits Percival’s top ten most awkward interactions of his life. Frankly a miracle considering one of them is the absolute travesty with the russian minister in his first Auror year.

His new work partner and fellow team leader had also seen him ass out, begging for it and made him laugh repeatedly. There is no hope of pulling the powerful Director card. With any luck Newt would simply let it go.

“She seems - she seems _lovely_.”

Percival pinches his nose before turning around, dropping his hand and giving a light sigh, noticing the way Newt seems to have drawn in on himself, playing with his sleeve, gaze darting away.

It’s a drastic change from the night before, but then - so is Percival’s demeanor. Director and worker is far different to what they’d been up too, after all.

“She is. When she wants something.”

He can’t help the fondness, shaking his head a little, clearing any possible idea of bringing up their history. Seraphina is wrong, it would only cause complications. He couldn’t afford complications, even if the odd longing wouldn’t leave at that moment.

Instead he makes his way to his desk, reaching for the proposal’s he’d prepared for the Beast Department.

“There’s twelve known cases of- “

“I _swear_ I didn’t know!”

Percival’s head jerks up in surprise when hands press to the desk before him with a light thud, the soft face before him open, seemingly genuinely concerned.

He goes to tell him it’s fine - to _leave_ it, but Newt soldiers on, and Percival is beginning to get the feeling rambling is a common occurrence with the man.

“I _really_ didn’t know who you were, I’m so very sorry for putting you in this position - at, at work I mean, not the other positions - that is to say I don’t regret the night at all but I mean-”

Percival does his best to keep up, but the words cause the strangest reaction, a slight smile curling on his lips, huffing slightly in amusement. He tells himself it’s because the attempt at an apology is very sweet, not because Newt gives no denial and no bargain from their time together.

_Not_ because Newt doesn’t regret him that’s for sure.

“Newt. It’s fine, it’s clear you didn’t know. I doubt you would have done anything if you did, we’re both adults and perfectly capable of working together as such.”

Newt is nodding along and Percival clears his throat, reaching once more for the file, pausing when Newt continues - his question one of halted confusion.

“I’m sorry but why on earth wouldn’t I have if I knew who you were? I mean - well, I would hope you didn’t fake absolutely everything about the-”

“Of course not!” The words are sharp and Percival snaps his mouth shut, quiet falling for a second before that same stubbornness shows again and Newt refuses to move on the conversation, looking to him patiently.

Percival can only pray for patience himself.

“Newt, my position here is a high one. I work hard and I won't change that. I’m not often the same at work as I am at home and at times the choices I make aren’t easy, and aren’t happy ones. It’s - a lot to handle.”

Newt cocks his head for a moment and Percival shakes his own, looking back down to the reports with a frown.

“Well, I’m sure you’re nothing compared to a Nundu in difficulty.”

Percival blinks for a moment, entirely taken aback.

_“Excuse me?”_

“You don’t shed. You don’t require multiple pounds of a very specific breed of cow to be content, it doesn’t take two hours to ish you and you don’t claw me when I don’t rub your belly for at least twenty full minutes a morning.”

Percival stares at the man like he’s absolutely mad, Newt’s smile bright and damn him it’s infectious.

“Well, you do leave a _few_ scratches."

Percival snorts and fights a oddly _flustered_ feeling when Newt’s hand presses over his lower stomach and the man giggles, biting at his lip.

“So not all that much to handle, I don’t think. And at least worth a go I’d say.”

Percival huffs a sound of honest disbelief. The man _is_ mad, wonderfully and dangerously mad.

“I ... don’t know quite what to say to that.”

Newt’s shoulders lift in a shrug and Percival feels ridiculously _hopeful_ , wondering what the hell is going on. Just this morning he’d been a mess of determination not to give up his seeming freedom. And now, presented with the chance to turn the man away and continue on with his carefully constructed life he is is hesitating.

“Say yes of course. Dinner, tonight, when we finish at six. I’ll show you how hard a Nundu is to handle.”

Newt’s tone is one that leaves no room for argument despite the teasing tilt, the same sort of tone that had Percival sinking to his knees in eagerness just hours earlier.

“If I say yes will you let me get through these reports and sort our actual work? And I’ll be checking your permits, I can’t tell if you’re joking about owning a Nundu.”

Newt nods once and Percival makes a show of sighing, hiding his slight smile as he turns in his chair, reaching for the real work - heavy books of reports all for Newt to catch up on, left by the previous head of department.

He drops them before the man gleefully, no longer hiding the smile growing on his face.

“ _Yes_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr under the same penname [ContainThisOrItWillGetGay](https://containthisoritwillgetgay.tumblr.com)


End file.
